She asked me to stay and I stole her room.
She asked for my love and I gave her a dangerous mind.
Now she’s stupid in the street and she can’t socialise.
Well I love the little girl, and I’ll love her till the day she dies.

She wails Jimmy’s guitar sound, jealousies scream.
Waiting at the light know what I mean.

Girl of sixteen, whole life ahead of her, slashed her wrists bored with life. Didn’t succeed, thank the Lord for small mercies.

Fighting back the tears, mother reads the note again. Sixteen candles burn in her mind. She takes the blame, it’s always the same. She goes down on her knees and prays.

I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that God’s got a sick sense of humor and when I die, I expect to find Him laughing.

Girl of eighteen, fell in love with everything, found new life in Jesus Christ. Hit by a car, ended up on a life support machine.

Summer’s day as she passed away, birds were singing in the summer’s sky. Then came the rain, and once again a tear fell from her mother’s eye.

I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that God’s got a sick sense of humor and when I die, I expect to find Him laughing.

—

August, 1983

Hell’s Kitchen, NYC

Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning I sit around,
trying to smile but the air is so heavy and dry.
Strange voices are saying (What did they say?)
Things I can’t understand.
It’s too close for comfort this heat has got right out of hand.